The Basket Case
by OSUSprinks
Summary: written for the Hideaway. It's a story of a meeting on an early Sunday morning.


_A/N: This was written for a contest at the Hideaway. I would tell you about it, but I don't want to give anything away. Just know that this is unlike anything I have ever written, but in a good way. lol Happy reading, Sprinkles :-)_

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It was rather late that Saturday night when the call came. I have always had trouble getting any rest the night before a gig and that night was no exception. I was lying in bed rereading my well-thumbed copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. When the phone rang, I carefully marked my place, rather annoyed with the interruption. I had just gotten to one of the more suspicious scenes. What _had_ McGonagall and Dumbledore been after when they stumbled across Colin Creevy? _Hot chocolate?_

_Not likely_, I thought as I reached for the phone. I already knew what the call would be about.

Changes in the schedule, even last minute ones, were not all that uncommon. People moved around quite a bit in those days. Two things struck me as unusual about this new stop in my yearly route. The house had not been scheduled for a visit in nearly a hundred years. I even called my girl at the station for confirmation. Jessica checked out my hunch, but only after I agreed to a garden lunch later in the week. Dumbledore Manor had not been occupied on this particular Sunday in ninety-seven years.

That name, Dumbledore, was the other oddity. It glared at me like a bright neon arrow, pointing directly at the book at my side.

I hopped up the cold stone steps early that next morning, long before the sun chose to make its appearance. Using one of the tricks of the trade they teach you as a rookie, I quietly let myself in. I bounded down the hall, only to stop suddenly as I reached the parlor. I stood completely still, listening. It was quiet, too quiet. I coolly glanced about me feeling as though I had just stumbled upon a noose that had already begun to close. My nose twitched slightly. The air was scented with lemon and cocoa, but to me it just smelled like trouble.

Growing up, the kids in the neighborhood had always given me trouble about the size of my ears. It was times like this one that I wished they were even larger. It was too late when I heard the slight movement across the floorboards behind me. I was trapped.

At the Academy, they teach you what to do in these situations. Dropping the merchandise and hiding among it was my first option. They also teach you to pretend you are just some average Joe who wandered in unawares. Above all else, a rookie learns quick to hide his identity at all costs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I calmly assessed my opponent. His long, white hair and beard nearly reached his waist. Twinkling blue eyes were partially hidden by half-moon spectacles. A surprised smile lit the face of the man standing between me and my freedom. My gut told me I should play it straight with him, and I always listen to my gut.

"Well, hello old chap. You certainly aren't the intruder I expected." The man slowly moved closer. I could see a short length of wood in his right hand and decided I would rather not find out what he had planned.

Rising up on my hind legs, I turned to him. "The name's Peter; Pete to my friends, Cottontail to my enemies."

"Cottontail?" His look of surprise turned to one of amusement. "You mean to tell me that you are the Easter Bunny?"

"I prefer Easter Specialist and let me tell you, it isn't all sunshine and chocolate eggs. It takes years of training and dedication to do what we do."

He was instantly serious. "I'm sure it does and I apologize if I offended you. It's just that I've never met an Easter B- Specialist before. I'm Albus Dumbledore."

He reached out a hand to shake. I looked at it coolly before returning the gesture.

"I know who you are. I'm a big fan. I've read the books, though there are a few loose ends I fear Miss Rowling has neglected to tie up."

"Loose ends?"

I considered him a moment before deciding a direct approach would crack him the fastest. "What exactly were you doing when you stumbled across the petrified body of Colin Creevy and how did McGonagall happen to know about it?"

He blushed at my question and began to stutter something about cocoa. A few more moments of interrogation had him singing. At last I had my answer and it was time to be on my way. I told him as much.

"You are more than welcome to stop by anytime," he said as he opened the door. "Be sure to read the fifth book; this year is turning out to be quite fascinating."

As I hopped away, I wondered what he meant by that.

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_A/N: I hope you enjoyed my little attempt at a different voice. It was fun to do. Happy reading, Sprinkles_


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